“Where would you go?”
She hesitated. “I wish to get to the railway.”
“To go where?”
“Do not question me.”
“I beg your pardon. I am not questioning you in the sense you imply. There are two lines of railway about the same distance away. One leads to Serajevo, the other to Belgrade.”
“How far away?”
“The former perhaps twenty miles; the other I don’t know.”
She caught her breath at this. “Where am I, then?”
“In the middle of the Gravenje hills.”
“God have mercy on me.” It was only a whisper; but so eloquent of despair.